Look who's come for tea
by anotherlife
Summary: "She stared up at the well dressed man holding the umbrella who was standing in her doorway." Molly is an idiot and has made a big mistake. Now Mycroft Holmes is at her door demanding answers. - Set nearly a year after Reichenbach, in which Mycroft had no idea that Sherlock was still alive.
1. Pesky Paperwork

Disclaimer: Sadly I don't own any of it. Just my own personal copy of the books and DVDs :(

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**Look who's come for tea.**

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Molly Hooper was an idiot!

She knew she wasn't stupid. Sure she knew she wasn't the cleverest person about, but she was by no means what you would refer to as thick. That's why she was so unsettled by the realisation of what a ridiculous mistake she had made. How could she have been so foolish? Clearly the drugs had still been muddling up her brain, because really what other excuse did she have? What had possessed her to act like such a colossal moron? All of this was swimming at the forefront of her brain as she stared up at the well dressed man holding the umbrella who was standing in her doorway. She had immediately realising why he was there and how it was entirely her own fault.

"Good Evening Miss Hooper. Do you mind if I come in? I believe we have much to talk about." He didn't wait for a response as he moved past her and in to the living room. How he knew the layout of her flat was beyond her, but right not she had bigger things to worry about. "A cup of tea would be lovely if you don't mind. I have a feeling this may take a while." He told her.

Molly blinked seemingly coming too.

"Oh right yes tea of course." She muttered shutting the front door and making her way towards the kitchen. "Erm would you like any milk or sugar?" she called as she busied herself filling the kettle.

"Milk one sugar please."

Right milk one sugar she could manage that. Dear god she was screwed! All the effort to keep everything quiet, keep it all secret and she had ruined it all with one damn absent-minded moment, one ill thought-out reckless action. She was an idiot. Right now though she needed to pull herself together and go face the metaphorically music. So picking up the cup of tea she went through to the lounge and handed it to her guest before sitting herself down opposite him.

"Thank you." He said. "And may I ask how you have been? It has been a number of months since I have had the pleasure of seeing you. I believe my brother's funeral was the last time."

Molly could feel herself going red, he clearly did not intend to beat around the bush.

"Oh I've um been well. Busy but good. How about you?"

Her voice was timid and her words rushed.

"It has been hard." He admitted with a frown. "However I have found that in the last few days my mood has changed considerably. Something has come to my attention that has greatly changed my perspective on certain events. Do you have any idea what that could be Miss Hooper?"

Molly gulped. Yes she definitely knew, however she remained silent.

"Is there anything you wish to tell me?"

He fixed his eyes on her, making her turn her head to avoid his gaze.

"I'm sorry." She said after a few moments. "I am so sorry."

"I believe you Miss Hooper." She felt herself letting go of a breath she didn't even know she was holding. "However that does not take away from the fact that not only were you aware that my brother was alive, but most likely had a considerable hand in convincing everyone else to of contrary." He took a sip of his tea. "Do you know I could quite easily expose you, have you arrested for fraud and have your medical licence revoked Miss Hooper?"

Horror and fear flooded Molly's face. He couldn't could he? He wouldn't? Molly began to feel herself starting to panic again.

"Oh do not fear Miss Hooper, I will not be turning you in. I do however wish to know where my brother is."

"I don't know" she replied honestly and in haste. "I haven't seen him since last July."

"And you have no knowledge of what his plans may have been, where he was headed?" He questioned, peering at her over the top of his cup.

"I only know that he was after someone named Moran."

"Sebastian Moran?" he asked, only the subtle repositioning of his body indicated how important and invested he was in this. Of how much that name meant to him.

"I um... I think so. He never really mentioned his first name just that he had to be stopped."

He nodded in understanding. "I do not suppose you are aware of _why_ he felt the need to make such a spectacle of himself and jump? Or why he felt it necessary to fool an entire nation?"

This Molly did know.

"Snipers," she replied. "Moriarty had snipers positioned to shoot Mrs Hudson, Detective Lestrade and John if he didn't jump."

Mycroft took a moment to let the information sink in.

"And Sherlock always said he didn't have a heart." His lip gave a little twinge, as though he was going to smile but thought better of it. "I presume that he will not be returning until Moran is no longer a threat then?"

"I suppose. I mean he never really said." She was biting her lip, a habit she had had as a child for when she was nervous and had never been able to kick. "He does plans on coming back though," she added. "Or at least that's what he implied."

"What my brother says and what he means can quite often be very different things."

"I know, but I don't think he could stay away forever. He would miss John and Mrs Hudson and the cases too much."

"What about yourself?" He gave her a questioning look. "Do you not think you would factor into his returning?"

"Oh I'm not important. I was just there at the right time and place." She replied dismissively.

"I believe you underestimate your worth entirely Miss Hooper. Both my brother and I owe you more then we could ever repay."

"I don't need any payment. I was happy to help."

And that was true.

Despite how much it had hurt to lie to everyone, despite how horrible she had felt standing at his funeral knowing that he would be in her flat upon her return, she would have done it all again. The outcome far outweighed everything else.

"Still you have my eternal gratitude." He told her. "I must admit I am impressed by how well it was planned, how well it was all hidden. Indeed if it were not for a set of paperwork I found on my desk this morning, which proved my brother must have been alive late July, I would still be completely unaware."

Molly found herself swallowing heavily.

"Yes of course, I clearly wasn't thinking straight, I slipped up. I didn't realise what I was doing, I just was caught up in the moment I guess."

"I do not hold it against you Miss Hooper. If anything I am glad you _slipped up_, as you call it, it has taken a great burden off my shoulders. I have of course taken precautions to correct your small oversight so that no one else becomes privy to my brothers continuing existence. Now that I am aware however I believe that you shall need greater security."

"If you have sorted it so no one else finds out, why?" She asked perplexed.

"Because ensuring your safety is the least I can do." He replied matter of fact.

There was a pause between the two which seemed to drag on as each thought through what their next move should be.

"May I see?" he asked almost nervously, as though he feared being denied.

"I um... yes of course. But you'll need to be quiet."

He nodded and they both stood, making their way silently down the hall and into the darkened room at the end. She beckoned him forward and he couldn't help but stare.

"She is beautiful," he whispered, "She looks exactly like Sherlock."

Looking at his face in the half darkness, Molly Hooper reassessed her earlier view. Maybe, just maybe she hadn't been such an idiot after all.

She had never seen the great Mycroft Holmes look as happy as he did now, transfixed and smiling down at his sound asleep week old niece.

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**AN:** This has been going around my head for ages! I just had to write it. In case anyone is confused the paperwork Mycroft found was the birth certificate. I did some date checking and from what I can tell Sherlock jumped on June 12th. In order for him to have fathered the child Molly would have had to have been pregnant for over 10 months (in which case the doctors would have induced her long before letting that happen), or Sherlock would have had to still have been alive late July. I like to think Mycroft wouldn't question whether Molly was lying or not, because well it's Molly! (Also the baby looks just like Sherlock).

Thank you so much for reading. I really hope you enjoyed it.

- anotherlife x


	2. The Number Seven

Disclaimer: Sadly I don't own any of it. Just my own personal copy of the books and DVDs :(

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**Look who's come for tea.**

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Molly Hooper hated the number seven.

She knew it was irrational. Sure she knew that a number couldn't be evil, but there was just something about the number seven that spelled disaster to her. If questioned she probably could have narrowed down her hatred of it to being seven years old. Because Molly Hooper's seventh year on Earth had been horrible. In the course of that year she had lost her mother, her home, her school, her friends and her pet rabbit. She had been miserable. Even later in life the number seven continued to taunt her. Her father had passed away on July 7th. And in 2007 she had met the man she would grow to love, only to have her heart broken.

Molly also knew that it only took seven letters to turn everything upside down; _mistake_, _goodbye_ even _Mycroft_ he had muttered, kissing her forehead as she had drifted off to sleep. But worst was the simple "I'm sorry" scrawled on the back of a bills envelope, lying on her kitchen table she had found the next morning. Seven letters which had led to her feeling hollow for months.

Looking back Molly should have known that today was going to be bad. It was October 7th and her 7am alarm had failed to go off. In her manic morning rush she had missed the headline story of the morning news and left her phone on her bedside table. She was so late she neglected taking the tube, meaning she missed what was blasted across the front page of every newspapers and what had strangers on the underground communicating. She would have been made aware of what had London and indeed the rest of the UK gossiping had she got into any other cab. But she had grabbed the first one she came across, the one with the oblivious driver, who quite frankly was too hungover to have registered anything other than how even driving at 10mph made him feel nauseous. Had she not immediately silenced her class and set them a quiz to find out what information they had actually retained over the summer she might have hear what had them all buzzing with excitement. If she had done her usual of mixing with her colleagues at lunch instead of spending the time in her pathology lab she would have been questioned on her opinion of the story. But it seemed fate was against Molly, because as she finished packing up her things and headed out the labs she was still none the wiser.

The weather had taken a turn for the worse and Molly had again jumped into the first cab she could grab in order to get home quickly and just pass out. She had been in a bad mood when she woke and it had just got steadily worse during the day, so when the taxi driver tried to engage her in conversation she had just told him she was in no mood to talk and went about sighing and softly banging her head against the taxi head rest.

It was 7pm when she unlocked her door and pushed herself through the doorway into the flat she called out, "Mrs Hudson I'm back. I'm sorry for not calling you during the day but I left my phone behind and it's just been super busy."

Unusually the older lady did not reply, but she heard the TV and voices in the lounge so went searching in that direction. Only it wasn't Martha Hudson she saw sitting on her sofa watching her usual soaps. The person didn't even look remotely like her. They were the wrong height, wrong age had the wrong hair colour and most importantly he was the wrong gender.

"You're not meant to be here." She said, before she could stop herself. She stood in the doorway looking over at him on shock. "You're not meant to be anywhere near here. You left."

"And now I have returned, do keep up Molly. It has been all over the news." He replied without standing up or even turning around to acknowledge her.

"I haven't seen the news. I've had more important things to do. I had to give my students a test and I have papers due, autopsies to perform... I've been non-stop all day."

"Ah yes Doctor Molly Hooper pathologist, teacher, con artist, mo-"

"Con artist?" she interrupted feeling offended. "I'm not a con artist!"

"Of course you are Molly." He answered, "Did you not partake in a particular spectacular con nearly three and a half years ago?"

"I did it to help."

"Yes well that doesn't change the facts now does it?"

Molly glared at the back of his head.

"Why are you here? Where is Mrs Hudson?"

"I came around earlier and relieved her of her duties. She was of the same mind as myself that we need to talk." Finally he looked over his shoulder in her direction revealing a black eye.

He had seen John then.

"Do come in and make yourself at home. Coffee black two sugars please Molly."

Was he trying to get himself a matching set of bruises?

"I think you can get your own coffee and I'll have a tea. Milk no sugar." She replied from her position in the doorway.

"My hands are full." he nodded his head to his arms and finally Molly moved forward to see for herself. "Hope. You called her Hope Holmes." He stated rather than asked.

"Hooper. It's Hope Hooper." She corrected, reaching down and brushing the hair out of the face of her sleeping daughter protectively.

"Names can always be changed."

"Why would you bother?" she questioned.

Sherlock just gave her his '_are you a complete moron?' _face.

"Well it's not like you're known to be fond of children." she countered.

"That's because they are normally in no way as interesting or intelligent as Hope."

Molly found herself trying not to laugh.

"You've been here what two hours?"

"Three and a quarter."

And already he sounded just like one of those boastful parents who always went on about their child's achievements.

There was silence between them as they both looked at their two and a half year old daughter who unbeknownst to her was in the presence of both her parents for the first time in her life.

"Why are you here Sherlock?" Molly asked.

He didn't respond.

"What point are you trying to make in coming back here?

"I wanted to see, to observe."

"Why?" Did he still think she counted? After all this time?

Silence.

"Maybe you should just leave." Molly whispered. "If you don't know why your here or what you want then you should go. It's not good to confuse her like this." The _confuse me like this_ was left unsaid, but not unnoticed.

Silence.

She leant forward and retrieved her daughter from his arms.

"Sherlock please leave."

Without a backwards glance he stood and left her flat.

Molly settled Hope down in her bed before making her way to her own room and collapsing on her bed.

Summing up the energy she picked up her phone from the bedside and she saw amongst the various texts and calls she had missed was one from Mycroft. He had sent it late last night and it was just seven letters. Had she read it that morning would have at least prepared her.

_He's back._

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**AN:** So my little sister was bugging me into writing a chapter with Sherlock and Molly and I finally caved. I know my Molly might seem slight OOC, but she's been a single mum for a few years and has grown. And lets be honest if the man who got you pregnant then left turned up you wouldn't be a push over! Obviously Sherlock was aware there was a child, because well it's Sherlock and he knows everything.

Again thank you so much for reading! And this really is the last chapter of this. Although if my sister has her way I'll end up doing a follow up story...

- anotherlife x


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